


maybe i'm not scared

by hyperandrogenism



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Tenderness, probably not just vaguely lol, vaguely ooc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-28 18:30:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20068609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperandrogenism/pseuds/hyperandrogenism
Summary: "Am I making you uncomfortable?" Impactor’s voice is low and personal, optics still focused on the screen. Even though he knows it’s feigned, the indifference makes Springer wilt a little, but when Impactor’s servo goes back to his own side Springer misses it immediately.So Springer leans into Impactor a little more, just until their arms touch. "No." The return of Impactor's servo to his side, combined with the small smile on his face, sends shivers up Springer’s spinal strut. "No, you're not,” he breathes.





	maybe i'm not scared

**Author's Note:**

> 100% inspired by [this fanart](https://sigyemaem.tumblr.com/post/185087567836/my-otp) and the song bare by wildes + there is an [accompanying playlist](https://8tracks.com/hyperandrogenism/whether-i-want-it-or-not-i-will-lose-my-way-for-a-man)
> 
> basically im tender and projecting my homosexuality and requiem is really homoerotic dont @ me im also literally always in rarepair hell so....... f..... but my new Big Rarepair is first aid/impactor/springer so yall are in for some fun if i ever actually start writing again lol
> 
> so uhhh this is like,, when springer first becomes a wrecker,, so hes naive as shit and impactor isnt as much of a hot mess + this is when springer is still in training but impactor is already training him to be the next leader
> 
> <strike>also can anyone tell ive only kissed two people and both of those were 3+ years ago and that all the guides i can find are very biased towards writing cishet people kissing</strike>  
<strike>also i havent written anything i intended to post in literally like a year so pls be nice</strike>  
<strike>and im absolutely rambling but lets pretend this is useless gays rather than i have no idea what im doing</strike>

“Springer, c’mere for a second. Tell me what you think about this,” Impactor calls across the room.

“Of course, sir,” Springer replies, standing up and going over to the console Impactor is standing over.

Impactor smiles and rumbles his engine in a chuckle. “You don’t have to call me sir. No one else does, especially not when we’re alone.” He steps back to let Springer see the screen, showing an aerial photo of what looks to be a rough camp of mechs. “What do you see here?”

Springer leans over the console and studies the picture for a moment. “They’re Decepticons, right?” At Impactor’s nod he continues. “It’s a temporary camp. You can tell by the fact that they don’t even have tents, they’re just in their alts.” He stands up straighter and turns to Impactor. “I’d guess they’re following us, maybe, that looks like the gorge a couple klicks from here.”

“It is. And what should we do about that?” Impactor questions.

Springer looks up from the console. “Respectfully, sir, why are you asking me this?” he says, a bit perplexed, “You’re the one who makes these decisions.”

Crossing his arms, Impactor leans back. “Well, I’ve got to find a successor sooner or later.”

“And you think I could be the next leader?” Springer doesn’t know if that news makes him excited or terrified, and Impactor’s amused snort doesn’t help to make up his mind at all.

“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re a quick learner, you’re smart, you’re a good soldier. You’re a natural-born leader. I’d be stupid not to pick you.”

“Th-thank you, sir.” The praise is rare from Impactor, and Springer is completely unprepared for it. He bites his lip in a sudden burst of anxiety.

Impactor smiles, very slightly, and turns back to the screen. “Back to the training. What should we do about this?”

After thinking about it for a moment, Springer ventures, “Well… I think we should do some recon, get a better idea of how many mechs there are.”

“Do you think? Or do you know?” Impactor challenges.

“I-I know,” Springer stammers, “I know,” he repeats with more confidence.

The surveying look Impactor gives him makes Springer a bit uncomfortable. “Good. And who should we send for that?” Impactor says after a pause.

“...Me?” It’s tentative, and Springer takes Impactor’s grunt as a sign he doesn’t approve of Springer’s uncertainty. “I have a flight alt, and I’m smaller than anyone but Rack’n’Ruin, and I’m not… Whirl.” Springer titters uncomfortably at his own joke, even though Impactor ignores it.

Impactor steps closer, a little too close if you ask Springer, their shoulders brushing and vents mingling. Even though they're alone it still makes Springer blush. When a servo comes to rest on his waist, Springer jumps, and that gets another chuckle from Impactor. “Very good. You’ll go tomorrow morning, 0500 hours.”

Springer settles quickly, looking away from the screen and up at Impactor. “What are you doing?” he asks quietly.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Impactor’s voice is low and personal, optics still focused on the screen. Even though he knows it’s feigned, the indifference makes Springer wilt a little, but when Impactor’s servo goes back to his own side Springer misses it immediately.

So Springer leans into Impactor a little more, just until their arms touch. "No." The return of Impactor's servo to his side, combined with the small smile on his face, sends shivers up Springer’s spinal strut. "No, you're not,” he breathes.

"Good." Impactor's servo moves up until he's gently squeezing Springer's waist and they go back to studying the screen. Springer feels hyperaware of Impactor’s servo, but over time he relaxes.

The next time Impactor turns to him to say something, Springer quickly goes up onto his toes and presses a kiss to Impactor’s lips. It’s impulsive, and at first their crests bump awkwardly, but Springer quickly finds the right, albeit awkward and a little painful, angle. 

And the effort is  _ so _ worth it when Impactor cups his jaw and kisses back, soft, seemingly too gentle for two Wreckers, but it’s perfect for Springer. When Springer tries to move away, Impactor leans down to kiss him again, turning to fully face Springer and pressing against him. Springer’s servos clutch almost desperately at Impactor’s biceps. He gasps a little into Impactor’s mouth, and Impactor takes the opportunity to swipe his glossa along Springer’s lip. Barely keeping himself from whimpering, Springer reciprocates, playfully flicking Impactor’s glossa with his own. The resulting nip and rumble of Impactor’s engine greatly encourages Springer.

This isn’t something he’d actually considered before they had touched, but it feels like heaven when their plating slides together and Impactor tilts Springer’s helm back for a better angle. They separate eventually, though Impactor leans forward again until their foreheads are almost touching. “Do you do this with all the new recruits?” Springer jokes with a smile. He slides his servos up to Impactor’s chest.

“Mmm, only the good ones,” Impactor answers. He moves forward again for another kiss, slipping his harpoon arm behind Springer’s back to pull them flush together, but pulls away after a couple of seconds. “Only the  _ cute _ ones,” he adds.

They move back together and Springer wraps his arms around Impactor’s neck. Neither of them initiate another kiss, breathing the same air is enough. They stand still, just watching each other, until Impactor glances at the monitor and frowns. He steps back, letting Springer’s arms fall. “You’re running low on recharge time. Best be getting to bed.”

Springer looks up with wide optics, a little shocked at the abrupt stop. His shoulders slump. “O-okay,” he stutters awkwardly.

The warm half-smile comes back and puts Springer at ease. “Don’t look so disappointed. If you’re lucky, I’ll get up with you tomorrow,” Impactor says, “Might give you some company, even if only to observe.”

“Thank you, sir,” Springer answers.

“Like I said, you don’t need to call me sir. Unless you like that, in which case…” Impactor winks and Springer feels his spark flutter. “See you at 0500 hours.”

“Yes, sir,” Springer says with a smile.


End file.
